Bisogno di un Amico
by Verdreht
Summary: Ezio Auditore bears the weight of revenge for his family, but also as a savior to theives, courtesans, and assassins alike. But what happens when the weight becomes too much and he breaks? Who will be there to pick up the pieces? Slash. EzioxLeonardo
1. Chapter 1

Author's Notes: Alright, I'm new to the whole fanfiction business, so I wanted to outline a few things. For one, I am well aware that I have probably made some mistakes. Please let me know, and I will do my best to fix them. Promise.

For two, I like to play around with the characters a bit, and the storyline. In this one, I made Ezio younger than he would have been when he first went to Venice, or really even began the biggest part of his story with the thieves. I just wanted him to be younger, so poof! He's younger. The power!

Lastly, please review! It's the only way I'll know that people want to read more!

Now enjoy! ^^

Ezio clutched his tunic tightly, a grimace twisting his face. He remembered something Antonio had said about breathing exercises to deal with pain, so he decided to give it a go. He took one breath though, and that was the end of that. His entire body was wracked with coughs again, and they tore at his wounds, causing them to gape and weep more than they were.

How had he gotten into such a mess, he wondered. He already knew the answer though, before he even had to think on it. Lorenzo. Lorenzo and his Uncle. They threw at him task after task, and being what he was – the prodigious assassin, and hope of all thieves, courtesans, and the like – he could never refuse. It always came to vengeance for his family, or protecting the cause. _Grande dio…_ he was tired…The wounds accumulated, and he had neither the time, nor the ability to see a doctor.

All of that led up to where he was now. Sitting in a roof garden box, pressed to the ground, listening for the slightest hint of a guard approaching. He had to strain his senses, not because the footsteps would be quiet, but because he could barely hear anything over the thundering of his own heart.

He'd done the job, sure, but not before what seemed like an entire army of brutes surrounded him, and he was forced to fight them off. He had suffered the consequences of the battle, but he had managed to escape, and so now he was waiting. Now he was praying, silently, that he wouldn't be found by a seeker.

As he waited, he began to analyze his wounds. Well, his new wounds. His leg pained him the most. He didn't dare to look at it just yet. Instead, he checked the next most pressing ache. Just along his right spaulder, he'd been struck by one of the brute's axes. It had been a glancing blow, thanks to his quick reflexes, but the man was strong and his blade was sharp. The wound wept steadily, and a quick inspection revealed that Ezio could easily see the bone of his shoulder and collarbone. From the way it ached when he so much as twitched the arm, he had to assume that the bone was either broken or cracked.

Continuing his inspection, he pressed his fingers into his ribs. They gave, and he had to stifle a hiss of pain. Broken. At least three of them, if not more. That would explain his difficulty breathing. His wrist, now that he thought about it, was also quite swollen. And sore.

When he finally did get around to looking at his leg, he rather wished he hadn't. Underneath his greaves, the cloth of his leggings was torn and bloody, and when he looked through one of the tears, he could clearly make out a ragged end of the narrower of the two leg bones pressing through the swollen, ripped flesh. He quickly shut his eyes, leaning his head back against the side of the garden box, counting in his head to keep from passing out. _Un… due… tre…_ he mentally chanted.

He got himself under control, and quickly pulled one of the boards from the bottom of the garden box, and aligned it to his leg, sliding the straightened end beside his ankle in his boot. He grimaced as even the slightest movement sent shocks of pain up his leg, and quickly opted to bite his teeth around his collar before he continued with his impromptu splinting. He cautiously put his greaves back in place, and with several quick, agonizing tugs, he tightened the greaves and the board into place.

Once his breathing was back under control, he focused again on the sounds around him. He couldn't hear any noises, so as quietly as he could, he slid out of the garden box. Immediately when he put weight on his leg, he realized that the splint, though helpful, wasn't going to be enough for him to get very far.

He knew he couldn't make it all the way back to the port, which left him with only one option. Leonardo.

His heading in mind, Ezio began the grueling journey. He was forced to stay on the street, his left leg and right arm both unable to support him as he jumped or climbed. His leg barely supported him as he walked. _Grazie, dio mio…_ Ezio thought as the familiar door to Leonardo's workshop game into sight.

Checking to be sure that his injuries weren't showing, and that his makeshift splint was concealed safely beneath his greaves, Ezio knocked, and then pushed the door open.

"Ezio, _amico mio_! _Sono felice di vederlo_!" Leonardo said, turning around with a massive grin. Ezio managed his own half smile.

"And I, you, Leonardo," he said, keeping as much strain from his voice as possible. Leonardo knew him too well though.

"Ezio…_Cosa c'è_?" Leonardo asked, walking up to his friend. Ezio hadn't bothered to remove his hood, and so Leonardo took the liberty of doing so, gently lifting it from his friend's head. With his eyes free of the hood's shadows, Leonardo could make out the dark shadows under his friend's eyes, and the sweat beaded upon his face. "_Dio mio,_ you look awful. Sit down," he said, steering him into the chair. Ezio allowed himself to be helped into the chair, settling limply against the plush.

Now in the safety of Leonardo's house, he allowed himself to relax. The whole place exuded an air of…sanctuary. Of home. It smelled of paint, clay, and parchment, as well as the light incents Leonardo insisted on burning. More than that though, it smelled of Leonardo, and that, Ezio thought, had to be what made it feel safe more than any of that other stuff.

He was so caught up in his own world that he didn't notice Leonardo was speaking to him until a lightly calloused hand snapped in front of his face. "Ezio! Ezio are you still with me?"

Leonardo was genuinely concerned about his friend. _As if that is all he is to you,_ Leonardo's treacherous mind interrupted. Leonardo quickly shrugged it off though, deciding that there were much more important things than dealing with his seemingly unrequited love for the man in front of him. Like, say, taking care of said man.

"_Mi dispiace_, I suppose I drifted…" Ezio apologized absently, his eyes beginning to slide closed.

"Ezio!" Leonardo exclaimed, shaking him lightly. Ezio's eyes immediately burst open, and settled on Leonardo with a wide eyed, almost wild gaze. His left hand snapped onto Leonardo's in a vice grip.

Leonardo could see the surprise and…was that fear in his eyes? His breathing had quickened considerably, and the grip was strong, even if it wasn't close to what Leonardo knew he could manage. "Shhh, Ezio," he whispered soothingly, making no move to either free his hand, or pull away. "Shhh, it's alright."

Ezio finally seemed to realize what was going on, and released Leonardo's wrist like it burned him. "_Mi dispiace,_" he said quickly, eyes downcast.

Leonardo smiled reassuringly. "It is quite alright, _amico mio_," he said. "Come now, I'll have one of the servants run you a bath. You could use one."

Ezio managed an indignant look, and said, "My sincerest apologies if my smell is not to your liking." The whole thing was kind of downplayed by the obvious weakness to his voice.

"On second thought, perhaps that might not be the best idea," Leonardo said. "You look as though you might very well drown if I leave you alone."

"_Non ti preoccupare_," Ezio said, waving his hand dismissively before dropping it back to his lap out of the sheer inability to hold it up any longer.

Leonardo thought about just allowing him to sleep, but he could tell that there was something wrong with his friend. He was worried about him.

He decided that a bath would probably help him, and he could always check on him to make sure he was still alright. "Alright then, come on you big useless thing," he said lightly, reaching for his arm to help him get up. Ezio accepted the help, rising up and leaning heavily on Leonardo as he led him for the stairs down into the bathroom. When they got to the first one though, Ezio started pulling back.

"_Non,_" he said, turning away, presumably for the door. Leonardo held onto him though. That worried him more than anything he'd seen that night. _He_ was able to hold onto _Ezio._ "_Per favore,_" he pleaded as Leonardo attempted to get him to go down the stairs. "_Per favore, non._"

Leonardo stopped. He hadn't heard Ezio sound so pitiful in a long time, and last time, it hadn't been good. He quickly decided that he wanted to calm him down before he did anything. It seemed like he wanted to sit down, so he led him back over to the chair, and then pulled another in front of it.

"Ezio, _amico mio_, what's wrong?" Ezio just shook his head, his shoulders sagging resignedly. "Ezio, do I need to call a doctor? What? What can I do?" Ezio shook his head again, but this time, it dipped down to his chest. Leonardo hurriedly shook him, and his head snapped up again, his eyes unnaturally wide. Again, his chest heaved, and finally, Leonardo couldn't take it anymore.

He walked out to his door, and to his relief, caught sight of a group of the local thieves. He waved them over quickly, and they came.

"_Si_, _signore_?" one of them asked.

"I need you to go to Antonio. I need him to get here as soon as possible. Tell him it is Ezio." The young bandit nodded, and they all retreated back into the streets.

Leonardo turned and went back into his house, but he'd only gotten the door closed before he was pushed up against the wall by a fist in his collar.

"Ezio!" he hissed, grabbing at the assassin's sleeve.

"What did you tell them?" Ezio snarled. He was dizzy…everything was spinning, and so loud and dull and booming. Something in the back of his head told him he was losing too much blood, but he didn't understand what that meant anymore. He didn't understand. Why didn't he understand?

"I asked them to get Antonio. I know something is ailing you, _amico mio_, and Antonio might be able to help," Leonardo explained, suddenly more concerned with the unfocused look in Ezio's eyes than his fist in his shirt.

"_Non_!" Ezio shouted.

"No what, Ezio? What is wrong?"

"_Non_!" Ezio repeated. His grip was growing slacker by the second. "I…head…dizzy," he slurred out, and he began to sway. Leonardo took that as his cue to help his love before he fell down, and gently started to pull his fingers loose. "Leo…" Ezio groaned, looking more like the nineteen year old he really was than Leonardo had ever seen.

That was the only warning Leonardo got before Ezio lurched forward. He caught him, surprised by how light the assassin was. He sat him in the chair, and then set about clearing off one of his work tables. He put several pillows across its surface, and then a blanket, and then went back to Ezio to help him up.

When he went to lift him up by the arm, Ezio let out a cry. He would check it in a second, he told himself, and somehow managed to get the teen over to the work table so that he was sitting up with his legs on the table. He hadn't noticed before, but as he was helping him lift his legs onto the table, he felt a solid piece of something under his greaves on his left leg.

"Ezio, I need to take your armor off," Leonardo said. Ezio nodded, but clearly didn't understand what he was saying, because when he reached for his cape, Ezio let out a shout and jerked away, almost over the side of the table. Leonardo caught him just in time, pushing him back onto the table as he dislodged the cape and set it aside.

"Cannot see…" Ezio mumbled, and for a second, Leonardo thought that he was saying he was blind. He realized though, that he was talking about something that he didn't want Leonardo to see.

"See what?" Ezio shook his head again, but apparently that was a bad idea, and he put his hand to his head. His right hand, though, Leonardo noticed, hung limp at his side. Sighing, Leonardo moved onto his spaulders. Ezio tried to bat him away, but his movements were sluggish. "Shhh," he soothed, unfastening the leather straps that held the armor to his shoulders. That was when he felt it. Thick, warm liquid spread across his hands, and he just _knew_ that it was bad.

Sure enough, his entire hand was covered in ichor. "_Dio mio, _Ezio," he whispered. Ezio groaned lightly, and tried to cover the wound, but Leonardo snapped back into action, moving onto the chest plate so that he could get access to the wound.

He realized, as he was pulling the chest armor off, that some of the blood had dried, sealing his shirt to his skin, and his armor to his shirt. Cringing, he began to peel it away, trying to ignore Ezio's pained gasps. He was shaking now, against the blankets, and he was cold to the touch.

"Tired…" he mumbled, his eyes sliding closed. Leonardo shook him awake again, and finished extricating the chest guard.

"Ezio, you have to stay awake, okay?" Ezio groaned and looked like he was going to argue. "For me? Please?" That seemed to do the trick.

"Si, Leo…_per voi,_" he mumbled as Leonardo began pulling his shirt free. It took some doing, partly because all of the blood had caked into the shirt, holding it to Ezio's numerous wounds, but also because Ezio simply wouldn't sit still.

Leonardo ended up having to cut a patch of the shirt away, the part around his collarbone wound, because there was so much blood, dried and otherwise. With the shirt all the way off, Leonardo couldn't help but gag a little. Wounds, old and new, laced across his torso and what he could see of his back, overlapping each other, bleeding into each other, even bleeding over one another. "_Dio mio..._what have they done to you?"

"Who?" Demanded a voice from the doorway. Leonardo turned to see Antonio standing in the doorway with Rosa. After seeing the scene before him though, Antonio didn't wait for an answer, striding straight to the table. Ezio saw him though, and it set him into a panic. He sat up, his left arm clutching at the newly opened wound on his shoulder as he kicked weakly with his right foot. The other two limbs remained limp though, and all he managed to do was kick himself across the table, into Leonardo's waiting embrace. The artist pulled him close, careful of his wounds, and rocked him, hushing the teen who was spitting rapid, slurred Italian curses at the man.

"What the hell?" Rosa wondered aloud, watching the display. That made Ezio's eyes snap to her, and he panicked again, kicking harder against Leonardo, who held him still, continuing to rock him gently. "_Che cosa è errato con lui_?!" This only elicited a snarl from the injured assassin, who reached for his knife belt. Antonio stopped him before he could though, removing the belt in one swift move, and then stripping Ezio's wrists of his hidden blades.

He screamed, and tried to lash out at Antonio, but Leonardo pinned his left arm in his hold, and his right arm was completely immobile.

"Shhh, _amico mio_, shhh," he soothed. Ezio didn't calm though, for a few moments afterwards, and slowly went limp in Leonardo's arms, jerking weakly at intervals. "_Bene,_ Ezio, _bene_," Leonardo whispered.

"What is going on?" Antonio whispered, careful not to upset Ezio again.

"He is frightened of something," Leonardo explained. "He is going into shock. I need you to help me with him." Antonio nodded, but as Leonardo moved to lay Ezio back on the table, he let out a cry, latching onto the artist's arm and holding it around himself, backing further against Leonardo.

_Leo…safe…must keep,_ Ezio thought frantically, and let out a cry, using all of the strength he had left to hold onto his safety. Leo loved him, even if it wasn't how he wanted him to love him. Not how he loved him. It didn't matter right now. Leo would protect him. _From who? What? Why aren't I safe? Who is coming?_ Ezio's mind rambled. _Cannot tell…cannot see…vision…_ his assassin's sight was betraying him. All he could make out as it faded in and out was Leonardo's frame in a soothing blue. The other two were nothing. No light, no danger, no safety, no target, and his normal vision was too blurred to discern their faces.

"Shhh, Ezio, you are safe," Leonardo's voice cut through his haze.

"_Si…_you…safe…cannot see," Ezio prattled senselessly. "Do not know…_due…nemico? ...amico?_"

Leonardo finally caught on to what he was saying. He couldn't see Rosa and Antonio, no doubt far too dizzy from the blood loss. He knew the assassin's eyes, as well. When the pupils shrunk to such unnaturally small pinpoints, he was seeing through his assassin's sight. His pupils were dilating now, going from normal to pinpoint. It had to be disorienting.

"_Amico,_" Leonardo assured. "Antonio and Rosa."

"Leo," Ezio groaned, trying to pull himself closer to the other.

"_Si, amico_. I am here," he said.

"_Soggiorno…_"

"I am going nowhere, my friend. But neither are you," he said, freeing his arm. Ezio let out a cry, and grasped blindly for the lost contact as he was pushed to lay flat on the table by Antonio and Rosa. He roared in fury, kicking with his good leg as well as he could while they tugged his boot and greaves off, until a metal ring suddenly locked around the thrashing limb. His left arm met the same fate, and he found that he could move neither.

Leonardo grimaced as he finished restraining the offending limbs. The table had a steel frame, irons, and belts. He'd built it the last time Ezio had taken an arrow to the back of his thigh and refused to let Leonardo heal him. It had kind of just been to see if he could, and he succeeded. He'd just hoped he would never have to use it.

He pulled the leather belt across Ezio's middle, and tightened it to keep him from bucking and twisting his hips to try to get loose.

"_Liberilo! Liberilo!!_" Ezio screamed. Antonio quickly shoved a cloth over his mouth and nose, and tied it around the back of his head. Ezio screamed louder now, thrashing his head about. "Leo!!" he cried, trying to twist the cloth off. "_Aiutilo_!"

"What is that?" Leo asked, wanting to assure Ezio.

"Concentrated vervain extract. To make him sleep," Antonio explained. Leonardo nodded, and repeated it to Ezio, stilling his head with a gentle hand under his chin. Antonio and Rosa had begun cutting away his trousers, and he didn't want Ezio to upset himself further. He didn't want him to give himself whiplash either.

Regardless, Ezio grew more frantic as they Antonio started to remove the greaves from his right leg, and thereby the splint. "_Per favore, _Leo_, rendagli l'arresto!"_ Ezio cried, twisting against his restraints, both human and inanimate.

Despite his cries, Antonio removed the splint, and then Ezio's trousers, leaving him in nothing but his under-breeches that reached only mid thigh, and hung low on his hips.

"_Dio mio,_" Antonio growled when he saw the state of Ezio's leg. "_Mi dispiace, amico mio…_we have to fix this," he said, gently beginning to examine the leg. His fingers had no sooner touched the leg than Ezio let out an almost animalistic sounding snarl and his struggles renewed.

"The vervain is not working!" Rosa exclaimed. "He inhales too little of it!"

Antonio frowned, and produced a bottle from his hip satchel. He moved to the head of the table, motioning for Leonardo to maintain his hold on Ezio's head. "There are other ways to introduce herbs to the system," he said, opening the bottle. It had a dropper on it, and without warning, he pried open one of Ezio's eyes and dropped some of the liquid into it. Ezio roared in pain and upset, and struggled harshly as Antonio continued administering the chemical.

"Now hold his eyes closed," he told Leonardo as Ezio's eyes began to weep a mixture of the purple liquid, and salty tears. Now thoroughly blinded, Ezio's mood changed for the worse. He screamed, kicking and thrashing about wildly as Antonio balled up a linen. He quickly pressed it to the wound on Ezio's shoulder, securing it with a strip of similar linen, and went back to his leg. This time, instead of a linen, he put both of his thumbs against the two visible edges of broken bone, and with a sharp jerk, pushed them back into alignment.

A cry of pure, bloodcurdling agony ripped from Ezio's throat, and Leonardo prayed the vervain would set in soon.

His torture wasn't complete yet. The remaining bones in his leg still had to be set, and Antonio set about it with brutal efficiency, though he too cringed each time the snap of bone brought forth an agonized scream from the teenager he'd grown to see almost as a son.

"It is done," Antonio said finally, and Rosa took his spot, beginning to stitch the gory wounds. As for Antonio, he took up post at his shoulder, removing the linen and feeling around the area. "Broken. _Merde!_" He hissed. Leonardo expected another violent reaction from Ezio, but it seemed as though the vervain was beginning to work. His movements were growing sluggish, and though his body continued to shudder, he seemed to be relaxing slightly.

"Leo…" he whispered, his voice hoarse from the screaming, and muddled from the medicine. "_Stanco…molto…_" he slurred. Leonardo brushed some of his hair, matted from the sweat and blood, from his face.

"_Bene, _Ezio,_ resto ora,_" Leonardo told him as Antonio began stitching the wound. Ezio's breath hitched.

"_Si…bene…resto…_" he trailed off, and Leonardo believed he was asleep. His lips parted again, even Leonardo barely heard it, two more words slipped through. "_Amore mio…_"

With that, Ezio surrendered to the calls of sleep, and his body stilled. The words had already been said though, and Leonardo stared with wide eyes. _Amore?_ He thought to himself, brushing some of Ezio's hair from his face.

"Leonardo!" Antonio barked, snapping the artist from his daze. He nodded, and with one last glance as the surprisingly serene face of the teenager before him, he joined Antonio in trying to piece him back together.


	2. Chapter 2

It was hours later before Antonio, Leonardo, and Rosa finally relaxed. Ezio's wounds had been tended as well as they could – they'd called the doctor to be sure, after realizing the severity of his wounds – and he was now resting with the aid of hourly doses of medicine.

All in all, Ezio had accumulated quite a collection of injuries. Starting from the top, he'd sustained a concussion, which had welled into a fair bump even in the time they'd been tending him. His jaw had been broken, but had set nicely and hadn't swelled too much.

The same could not be said for his right shoulder. His clavicle and scapula had both been fractured severely. They'd managed to set all the pieces back in place, but they didn't know how much good it would do. Over the broken bones, a gash spread from the top of his shoulder blade, halfway down his right pectoral. It was deep – through the muscle and to the bone – and they'd barely managed to stitch it up without it pulling open again as all of the tissue in Ezio's shoulder began to swell.

The forearm of the same side was also broken. It was a small break on the radius, just above his wrist, but it had swelled so badly they'd had to cut an incision into the top of his arm to keep the circulation from being lost.

His entire chest was purple and blue, and he'd managed four broken ribs, three cracked ones, with the remainder severely bruised. Across them, and the rest of his body, spread cuts and other bruises, ranging from small and manageable, to the massive wound that ran across his belly. From his right side, just below his ribs, the cut slashed down his lower abdomen, and stopped at his jutting left hip bone.

He had a similar gash to that along his back, only this one ran from his shoulder, halfway down his back, just across his spine. Luckily, this one wasn't as deep as the others. It was stitched together easily enough. The real question was how long it would be staying that way.

All of these, however, paled in comparison to the condition of his left leg. The limb was mangled, to say the least. Both the bones in his lower leg were broken in at least two places, and his femur was badly fractured. Once again, they'd gotten everything put back in place, but they had had to cut a line into the top of his thigh, and the inside of his calf to get to them. They fell alongside the other cuts that marred the limb, some from blades, some scuffs, and some from where the bones of his leg had pushed through the flesh.

And on top of all of that, Ezio was now running a fever, and was falling in and out of nightmares intermittently. They'd restrained him thoroughly, and had even bound his mouth to keep him from crying out. He aggravated his jaw by doing so each time, and one time he'd nearly alerted the guards.

Which is why when Mario, after hearing of his nephew's condition, demanded they move him to the Monteriggioni, they agreed. He was wanted in Venice, and Ezio needed to be somewhere safe while he recovered. Already he'd nearly roused himself, uttering in his sleep about running.

So, despite the difficulty of ensuring the health of a carriage passenger, they loaded Ezio into the back of a cart, and left for the Monteriggioni villa.

Leonardo sat in the cart with Ezio to ensure that he wasn't jostled too badly. They'd surrounded him with pillows and blankets, so that even a bad bump on the road wouldn't shake the cart badly enough to move him. Despite all that, Leonardo wanted to be sure.

And so he sat in the back, watching Ezio intently as the cart progressed towards their destination. He was watching him so closely that he almost thought he was imagining things when he caught movement. If you want something to happen bad enough, after all…

But he didn't want Ezio to wake up, he told himself. The doctor had said that the longer he could rest, the better.

He hadn't woken up once yet – not really, anyway – since the night he'd shown up, and Leonardo was getting concerned. He wanted to know that Ezio _could_ wake up.

Sure enough though, he heard a quiet groan, and then met the most beautiful pair of hazel eyes he'd ever seen. Said eyes barely opened to half-mast, before falling closed again, but opened back quickly. He opened his mouth to try to speak, but all that came out was another weak groan. He shifted, but not much, his movements restricted too severely by both the bandages, and by the pain.

"Shh, Ezio, do not try to move," Leonardo soothed, one hand gently holding Ezio's uninjured shoulder to the blankets, and the other threading lightly through his hair.

"W…where?" Ezio mumbled, his voice slurring and weak. Leonardo could tell from the glazed look in his eyes that he really wasn't aware of anything that was going on. At the time, Leonardo was too relieved to care.

"We are on the way to Monteriggioni, _amico mio,_" he told him, smiling brightly. Ezio's eyebrows drew in tightly. He didn't understand. He was too tired, and too drugged – luckily, he was still so far asleep that he wasn't registering the fact that he was in pain. "Rest now," Leonardo said, stroking his hair. Ezio moved to nod, but the moment his head started to move, he let out a yelp, and his eyes rolled back in his head.

Even from the simple action, the stitches in his shoulder had pulled, allowing blood to weep out. It wasn't bad, but he placed a cloth against it to staunch the flow anyway. He didn't want him to bleed all over everywhere.

Luckily, the blood staunched itself quickly, and Leonardo decided it would be alright to wait until they reached Monteriggioni to re-stitch the wound.

As Ezio slept, Leonardo checked his wounds again. The wound across his shoulder was the worst still, weeping blood and pus from the infection. Leonardo shuddered to think of the cleanliness of the blade that had cleaved its way straight to the bone, and it was all they could do to keep the infection from spreading.

His leg was in a similar state, the gashes and broken bones contributing to swelling that spread from his foot up past his pelvis. Both limbs, he feared, were in danger of being lost, but he would do all he could to save his beloved Ezio from that fate.

He had only just finished checking his wounds when Ezio began to stir again. This time, Leonardo recognized the signs for being a nightmare in the works. He'd had them since the end of his innocent youth, but in his condition, he couldn't afford the thrashing that often accompanied them.

Leonardo sighed, and pulled Ezio to his chest as he began to moan. "Shh, Ezio, shh," he soothed, running his hands through Ezio's hair, and kissing his forehead. Whenever he had these nightmares, Leonardo found that it was best to comfort him. "It's just a nightmare, Ezio, you're alright. You're alright, I'm here." As Leonardo had hoped, Ezio began to quiet, and finally stilled back against Leonardo's lap.

The painter continued to hold Ezio even after he fell back to sleep. It was strange, how fragile his assassin felt to him now. The strong, silent killer now seemed every bit the seventeen year old he never got to be. Unlike the stoicism associated with his creed, it was obvious that the youth was scared – terrified even. He'd been pushed too far, and he was the one that was having to pay for it.

And Leonardo would be there, to take care of him, and to make sure it never happened again. Small wounds, he could deal with, but anything that left his love like this…this was the last time. He swore it.


	3. Chapter 3

Pain. That was the first thing that he felt. Pure, white agony ripping through his entire being. He couldn't tell where it was centered, exactly, because it hurt everywhere. It felt like it was tearing him apart.

He could hear someone screaming. Loud and pained, it echoed in his ears, and all he wanted was for them to stop.

Then he realized he was the one screaming.

Suddenly, there were hands on him, holding him, and a familiar pair of lips kissed his forehead. Comfort. It was pleasant, but it did nothing to quell the agony.

Leonardo ran to Ezio's room. The screams emanating from the room were unmistakable, and clearly not from any nightmare. Ezio was awake.

And he was in pain.

The painter was at his side as quickly as possible. Ezio's body was stiff, and the fingers of his left hand twisted in the sheet. His eyes were clenched shut and his face was paler than he deemed healthy.

"Easy, Ezio, easy," he said, gently brushing his cheeks and kissing his forehead. "Open your eyes. _Per favore,_ open your eyes," he pleaded.

His plea seemed to register with the young assassin, and soon his eyes flickered open, revealing pain-filled auburn orbs. Ezio had stopped screaming, but he reasoned that that might have been because he simply could no longer manage.

Alongside the pain that speared in his gaze, there was panic. Complete and utter panic. "Ezio, _distenda_. _Respira_," he instructed. The combination of his terror and damaged ribs was causing him to shorten his breaths to the point where Leonardo expected hyperventilation.

"It hurts," Ezio choked out, his jaw grinding painfully with each word. "_Dio mio_ it hurts." Leonardo felt a stab at his heart as the teen's eyes welled. He was so young…he needed comfort, and Leonardo was there to give it.

As easily as he could, he slid beside him in the overlarge bed, gently lifting Ezio against his chest and wrapping his arms around him. Ezio leaned his bruised face into Leonardo's shoulder, and Leonardo could feel him as he shook against him.

"It's going to be alright," Leonardo assured him, stroking his hair gently as the shaking morphed into sobs that wracked all of Ezio's frame. He was hurting so badly it was almost unbelievable, and he no longer had any control of himself. He wanted to scream, he wanted to make it go away, but all his body could manage were the pathetic tears that streamed from his eyes. "I know it hurts, I know."

"Make it stop," Ezio gasped, his functional arm reaching to clutch his shoulder. Leonardo intercepted the hand, weaving the fingers of his own hand through Ezio's cold digits and pulling his hand back down.

Leonardo nodded, kissing Ezio's head. "Claudia will be up shortly with something for you," he assured him. He heard a quiet whimper in response, and felt Ezio's breathing quicken and shaking begin anew. The pain was getting worse, and it was wearing on the teen. He would go into shock soon. Already he was going cold to the touch.

Leonardo lowered Ezio back to the bed, but stayed crouched over him as a cold fist twisted in his shirt. "Ezio," Leonardo started, but Ezio wasn't paying attention. His eyes were closed tightly, and his head twisted. Leonardo quickly still it with a hand gently under his chin. He didn't want a repeat performance from the carriage.

"Ezio, open your eyes," he coaxed, stroking his thumb lightly across his temple. Ezio slowly obliged, his breathing still unnaturally fast and shallow. He was getting paler, and the shaking persisted. "I want you to focus on me, okay? Focus on my voice, and on my face." Ezio let out a whimper, but his eyes were glued to the painter's face. "Now breathe slowly, okay? Calm breaths, as deep as you can manage," he instructed, brushing the pad of his thumb across Ezio's cheek.

Ezio did as he was told, matching Leonardo's breaths. He kept his hand fisted in Leonardo's shirt, as if he was afraid the painter would leave him. He had no reason to worry though – Leonardo wouldn't leave his assassin if the world was burning.

"There, _buon_, Ezio. You're going to be alright," he told him. Ezio made a noise in the back of his throat that Leonardo couldn't really place. It didn't sound too agreeable though. Leonardo, remembering the times when he had had to soothe the assassin into some unwanted sleep after a long mission, slowly worked his thumbs up along the assassin's forehead. He slowly worked his fingers under the ridge of his brow, down to his temples and back, along the highest bones of his cheeks.

That worked well enough, and Leonardo could see as at least some of the tension left Ezio's body.

Claudia came in at about that time with a tea tray. "Pour a cup," Leonardo whispered, trying not to disturb Ezio. He had gotten him at least somewhat calm, which was quite an accomplishment considering the utter agony the teen was in. Nevertheless, he would be glad once they got some of the opium tincture into his system.

A cup, half filled, appeared at his side, and he took it with a grateful nod to Ezio's sister. As cautiously as he could, he lifted Ezio's torso and put the drink to his lips. Ezio, however, was not going to cooperate. The single, small movement of being set upright had sent a spike through his body, and he'd gone rigid again, his eyes clenched shut and his lips pursed.

"Ezio, open your mouth, _per favore,_" Leonardo coaxed. Ezio groaned, his arm snaking around himself and his working leg pulling to his chest as well as he could manage. "Ezio, please." But Ezio did nothing. Leonardo couldn't stand to see him suffer like this, and knew that the strong opium tea (if the smell was any indication as to the strength) would alleviate at least some of it. Take the edge off of it, at the very least.

So he hard-balled. "Ezio, there are two ways opium can be administered. Orally or anally. You _will_ get the medicine, now I am giving you the choice as to how." Ezio whimpered, and Leonardo felt kind of bad. Ezio wasn't refusing him to be stubborn, he was just out of his head with the pain. It was bad assassin's practice to take drinks you weren't familiar with, especially when they were being forced on you. Still, it needed to be done, for Ezio's sake.

"Ezio…" he said, his tone warning and firm. That did it, and the teen parted his lips, and allowed the tea to be tipped down his throat. He sputtered weakly, the mild heat of the tea burning against his raw throat, but he swallowed the drink without much fuss, and Leonardo handed the cup back to Claudia, who sat it down. He would see if the half dose would work before he drugged him completely – medications like this tended to have some interesting effects on the teen after all. His metabolism had a tendency to shift, so one day, he would burn through the meds like nothing, and the next they would lay him flat for days.

"_Grazie_, Ezio," Leonardo said softly, kissing Ezio's forehead once Claudia had left. He knew he should lay him back against the pillow, but he didn't want to. For one, he didn't want to make him hurt again, now that it seemed the initial pangs had died down. For two, it just felt _right_ to hold the young Auditore close to him.

Ezio was quiet against him save for the occasional whimper or groan. Leonardo had gone back to massaging the ridges of his face. There were, after all, a lot of pressure points on the face, and Ezio had always had extremely sensitive pressure points. The painter, after plenty of experience, could put the assassin to sleep with two fingers and a minute of time.

Somehow, between his unbelievable fatigue, and the medication, not to mention Leonardo's ministrations, Ezio finally succumbed to sleep, and went limp in Leonardo's arms. The painter didn't put him down though. He held him for some time, marveling at how the assassin, who struck such fear in the hearts of others, and taken so many lives, could look so innocent and young as he slept. But more than that he marveled at how anyone that claimed to care for the beautiful youth could keep making him do this to himself. He wondered how many times just in the last week Antonio or Mario had sent him out on some suicide mission that they knew no one was capable of doing safely, and that Ezio was the only one who could do them at all.

It was their fault, and, as much as it killed Leonardo to admit it, his own, that his love was lying in the bed in agony. Ezio was nothing but a victim, who had been used as a piece in a game much larger than himself.

But no, that wasn't true, because to Leonardo, there was nothing larger than Ezio. There was no greater good, only the good of Ezio. He was their protector, grinding out the darkness in the world. And while Ezio was protecting the world, and keeping them safe, Leonardo would stand by the guardian himself, and protect him from everything that threatened him. Leonardo would keep Ezio safe.


	4. Chapter 4

Ezio had been asleep for the third day in a row. They'd kept him on tinctures to keep him asleep and in as little pain as possible, though he continued to stir in his sleep. Leonardo had barely left him, save for to bathe. He even slept in the chamber with Ezio.

Now, it was time to change his bandages. They had been going on a rounds system, so Leonardo was doing it like always, being one of the most qualified people in the household, and Mario was helping him, because apparently it was his turn in the rotation.

Mario held Ezio's limp form up as Leonardo started to unwrap the bandages from around his torso. He'd only barely gotten through the first layer of linen bandages before Ezio began quietly crying out in his sleep. "Ezio?" Leonardo whispered. "It is alright, Ezio, it is alright," he soothed.

For a moment, it seemed to work, but then a gasp sounded. Hazel eyes opened in a jolt, and a hand closed around Leonardo's wrist.

"_Nipote?_" Mario questioned softly, making those same hazel eyes snap to him. Everything else happened in a rush. Ezio pulled free of Mario's grip, and tried to throw himself out of bed. He was too weak though, and the strain on his injuries made him cry out in pain and his legs gave out beneath him. Luckily, the splint held his bad leg straight and in front of him as he fell. He hit the ground hard regardless, pushing himself into the corner. Even Leonardo's untrained eye could pick out the young assassin reaching for the blades that he kept on him at all times. He didn't have any on him now though, and it seemed he figured that out, because his eyes widened in panic.

"_Vada via!_ Leave me alone!" he shouted, pressing himself back against the corner of the wall as well as he could.

Despite the impossible width of Ezio's eyes, they were unfocused, and hazy. He wasn't fully awake, Leonardo imagined. He was still probably suffering from a mix of the drugs, fatigue, and the nightmare they seemed to have woken him up from.

"Ezio, calm down. It is Leonardo, _amico mio_. You have nothing to fear," Leonardo said, edging closer to him slowly. He was cautious – not really scared, but he knew what Ezio could do, injured or not – as he approached him. He kept himself as passive as possible as he approached.

"_Vada!_" Ezio screamed, trying to push himself back further into the wall.

"_Nipote,_ snap out of it! We are not going anywhere," Mario barked harshly, which only served to upset Ezio more. Leonardo held up a hand to the older man and worked again at his own approach.

"Ezio, I promise everything is alright," he said quietly. He was getting closer and closer to the frightened assassin. He really hoped that it was a result of the opium that was coursing through his veins that he was having these hallucinations, and not the fever that was running rampant through his broken body.

Finally, Leonardo was close enough, and he knelt next to the object of his affections. Without waiting for Ezio to freak out, he wrapped his arms around the shaking teen. Ezio struggled against him at first, screaming and shouting, but Leonardo held him, hushing him.

"Shh," he whispered into Ezio's sweat-damped chocolate hair. "It was just a nightmare, Ezio, it wasn't real." The struggles stopped then, and Leonardo rocked the teen. He wasn't screaming anymore, but muttering something unintelligible. When Leonardo focused on it, he began to make out the words.

"No more," he heard. "Please no more. I can't take anymore." His voice was shaking and pleading, and Leonardo wished he knew what he was talking about.

"Is it the pain?" he asked. "Do you want me to get you something?" But the only response he got was the shaking of Ezio's head, and the same mantra repeated.

Realizing he wasn't getting anywhere, he turned back to Mario. "Please, can you ask Claudia to prepare more of the tincture?" He asked, keeping a firm grip on Ezio. Mario hesitated, but nodded, and turned out of the room, leaving Leonardo alone with his squirming nephew.

Ezio seemed to be coming out of his daze, and the grip on Leonardo's arm was getting tighter. Eventually, there was a quiet gasp, and the grip increased to the point where, for once, Leonardo was glad Ezio wasn't at full strength. He probably would have snapped his arm bone in half.

"Leo…" Ezio groaned, pain adding an abnormal amount of rasp to the normal smooth, low tenor of his voice. "Leo where…?" It seemed as though Ezio was somehow managing to keep himself together. If Leonardo had to take a guess, he would've said that he had just enough of a balance of medication in his system to keep at least some of the worst of the pain down, and keep him lucid at the same time. Leonardo felt relieved.

Then again, last time it had ended with some pulled stitches.

"You're at Villa Auditore," Leonardo explained.

Ezio was quiet for a second, and for a second, Leonardo thought he was unconscious. His eyes had closed, after all.

"Leo…" he started, snapping Leonardo's attention back from his contemplations on the time it takes to brew an opium tincture.

"Yes, Ezio?"

Suddenly, a look of plain curiosity spread through Ezio's druggedly serene, but still slightly pained expression. "Why am I in the floor?"

At the question – the question that was just so…Ezio – Leonardo did the only thing he could do. He laughed, and he cried. For the first time in days, Ezio was conscious and he wasn't screaming in pain or shouting or terrified of something. He was still hurt, but he was the Ezio Leonardo knew. He was the Ezio Leonardo thought he might never see again.

Leonardo felt a soft touch on his face and opened his eyes, moving to wipe his tears away hastily, only to find that they had already been brushed from his cheeks.

"I'm okay, Leo. Don't cry," Ezio told him, a lazy grin spreading on his face, even though his eyebrows were steadily creasing in discomfort.

Leonardo nodded, feeling a little foolish for crying over nothing like he had. He was the one that was supposed to be comforting Ezio, not the other way around.

He could see now, even through his relief at Ezio being awake, that the other was in pain. "Claudia will be up with something to help," he told him quietly.

Ezio frowned and opened his eyes. "I'm okay without it," he said.

Leonardo sighed. Obviously, Ezio was a lot more like himself than he'd thought.

Of course, that changed when the young Auditore tried to move. He'd been sitting still the whole time, save for moving his arm that once. Now though, he tried to shift his entire upper body. He paid for it.

With a gasp, he quickly tensed in Leonardo's arms. That was about when Claudia came in, carrying a tray of tea. Mario was right behind her, peering over her shoulder.

Ezio glanced at them through slit eyes, then back at Leonardo. His jaw clenched, and for a moment, Leonardo expected the worst.

Then the most strained smile Leonardo had ever seen stretched across Ezio's face. "Leo," he ground out, grin still somehow in place. "I think I'll take that tea now."


	5. Chapter 5

The chirping of birds and rising sunlight woke Ezio from his peaceful sleep. He felt okay. He really felt okay, and that felt good, not to wake up screaming from pain. After two weeks of recovery, Ezio had to say, it was about damn time. He was sore, and achy, but the pain was manageable, and for the first time, he felt good enough to sit up. So he did.

…and promptly laid back down. "Perhaps that was not the best idea," he said to himself, grimacing. Sore and achy had just gone from sharp and biting pain, mainly in his belly and shoulder.

"No, it wasn't." The voice was unmistakably Leonardo's, even though the other wasn't in the room. It was coming from his bathing room, and from the steam that crept out from under the door, Ezio was willing to guess that it was coming, more specifically, from the tub.

_Well now, that does offer certain incentives to the contrary,_ Ezio thought.

He knew, logically, that he should probably stay in bed. But the past few months for him had been woefully celibate, so as far as he could figure it, he could not be blamed if libido won out over logic. Which it did.

With a lot more caution this time, Ezio managed to push himself into a sitting position. He had yet to hear too much splashing coming from the bathroom, so he was willing to bet Leonardo was still in the bathtub. Of course, it occurred to him that it might be difficult to uphold the "only friends" thing if he were to sneak into the bathroom to catch a peak, but he couldn't be bothered with such things. He needed to live a little.

That involved getting out of bed, though, which proved to be a little more difficult than he would've imagined. His leg, despite the healing of everything else, was still in bad shape. They'd been kind enough to splint it quite thoroughly though, and had even left his sword by his bed. Lucky for him, his left arm was in better shape than pretty much all of the rest of him, and he was able to grab onto the sword and use it as sort of a crutch to lift himself out of bed. Unused and repairing muscles groaned in protest, and stiff bones creaked and popped, but once the dizziness cleared, the fact remained:

Ezio was standing.

Despite the urge to let out a whoop and dance at the small victory (or at least attempt to), Ezio decided there were more pressing matters. He would like to think he walked, but in reality, it was more of a hobble over to the door of the bath.

He did reach a bit of a dilemma when he got to the door. With one arm occupied with holding him up, and the other tied tightly in a swing, he had very few options as to how he was going to get the doorknob open. Ever the problem solver, though, Ezio just leaned against the wall, and with his newly freed hand, twisted the doorknob and pushed it open a bit so that he could just shoulder it further open with his good side.

Taking great care to be silent and unnoticeable, he pushed the door open inch by inch until he was able to slide in. Luckily for him, the end of his sword scabbard was leather-bound, and didn't make a sound as he cautiously stole into the room to drink in the sight.

And what a sight it was. Not feeling the least bit perverted (because come on, Leonardo had bathed him at least three times in the last two weeks…not that he was complaining) Ezio took the time to memorize every aspect of the vision before him. Just as he'd thought, Leonardo was stretched out in the tub, eyes closed in relaxation. The clear water did very little to conceal his form beneath it, giving Ezio a pleasing view of the surprisingly well-toned artist.

Ezio took extra care to keep even his breathing silent as he started back for the bed. He knew his limitations, and he was pushing them. It had been well worth it, though.

Back on subject though, the care that Ezio had put into being silent meant that he was absolutely in no way responsible when, for no apparent reason, Leonardo opened one eye, and then two, and then started shouting as he snatched a towel to cover himself and jumped out of the water. Why he chose to get out of the water while Ezio was in there, no one could be quite sure, but he did, and either the water was really hot, or he was mad.

"Ezio!" he shouted, wrapping the towel around his waist hurriedly and stalking up to the assassin who was trying to make a hasty retreat. "Ezio, what the hell are you doing in here?!" Now, he was blushing. Ezio could see that the redness concentrated around his cheeks.

"I had no idea you were indecent," Ezio lied lamely. He really didn't care at this point if Leonardo was mad. He didn't want him to be, sure, but he was already blocking him out, and the words of admonition went in one ear and out the other. Leonardo might as well have been flapping his mouth silently for all the effect it was having on Ezio.

"You knew damn well you perverted _bastardo_!" Leonardo raved, gripping the towel about his waist as he stalked up to Ezio. "You're not even supposed to be out of bed! You're supposed to be sleeping, and you're in here spying on me while I'm in the bath! I swear, you are enough to make even a nun think murder!" Leonardo continued to rant, and Ezio continued to ignore him until the assassin finally got tired of it, and in a split second decision, crushed their lips together. The saber in his hand dropped to the floor as he reveled in the moment he'd been dreaming of since he'd first taken an interest in the painter.

Leonardo was in a similar situation. He was shocked, at first, but the suddenness of the contact, but that melted away quickly, and his hands abandoned their posts holding his towel up in favor of wrapping around Ezio's hips. Even in his euphoria-shrouded bliss, he knew not touch Ezio's shoulder. His hips, on the other hand, were fair game.

Ezio's heart sped up as Leonardo returned the kiss, deepening it until their tongues warred with each other. His unbound hand found its way to Leonardo's hips as Leonardo's wound themselves in his hair. Frantic hands pulled him closer, and he returned the fervor eagerly, grinding his hips into Leonardo's.

Somehow, probably with the aid of some nice pleasure-spawned adrenaline, Ezio managed to push Leonardo back into the bed room, their lip lock only breaking for breath, and not long then.

When the backs of Leonardo's knees his the corner of the bed, Ezio kept pushing so that the painter fell back to the bed. Thankful for the strength of the splint, Ezio was able to raise his good leg to rest on the bed beside Leonardo's hips, and then pull his other leg to stretch alongside Leonardo's. His supporting arm was bent at the elbow, fingers caressing lightly stubbled skin and wet hair. How he wished to have use of his other hand.

Leonardo, though was making good use of his, one staying buried in Ezio's hair, and the other trailing lightly down his bandaged side. Ezio had been being cautious to that point, but he was getting frustrated with the limits on his ability, and, admittedly, with the lack of friction. In an attempt to alleviate at least one of the two, he shifted his hips, trying to get more leverage. What he got though, was an unpleasant jolt through his bad leg.

He couldn't help the gasp, and Leonardo knew instantly that it was not a good one, and leaned back. "Ezio?" he asked curiously, his hand still resting gently on Ezio's side.

Ezio frowned, realizing just from the look in Leonardo's eyes that play time was over. Sure enough, Leonardo sat up, pushing Ezio up as well so that he stood awkwardly on his right knee, his leg stretched out behind him.

"You're hurting," Leonardo said quietly, sliding out from under Ezio and over to the side of the bed to help the other lay back. Already Leonardo was frowning, and Ezio knew why. He felt used. The heat of his face, combined with the deep embarrassment in his eyes told him that. He didn't believe that Ezio had meant anything by it.

Ezio didn't know what to say. Didn't know what he could say as Leonardo turned to go get dressed in the bathroom. Just before he hit the door though, Ezio realized he had to say something, so he did.

"I meant it, you know," he said as Leonardo opened the door. The painter froze, and Ezio thought he had him for a second, but then he kept going.

"I know," Leonardo said, but it wasn't a tone that spoke to that. It was resigned, placating, like he was just humoring him.

"No you don't." Ezio pushed himself up so that at least he wasn't staring at the ceiling during the conversation. He would've really liked to march up to him and take him into his arms or something, but that just wasn't going to happen. He'd have to coerce him from the bed then. "I love you, Leonardo," Ezio professed as Leonardo gathered up his clothes from the stool.

Just like that, Ezio had Leonardo's attention. But it wasn't the attention he was expecting. The painter whirled around to face Ezio, his eyes wet with tears and face twisted into a visage of hurt and anger. "Don't mock me, Ezio Auditore. Just because I choose wrongly to wear my heart on my sleeve doesn't give you the right to take and abuse it when you see fit!"

Ezio raised his hand quickly, like he could grab the artist and make him stop from his bed. "But Leonardo, I—!" The door slammed shut between the assassin and the painter with startling finality. "Really do love you," Ezio finished quietly, his hand dropping down to his side. He knew he didn't have it in him to chase after the painter even if he wanted to, and if he could, he doubted it would do much good. The painter was hurt – wrongly, but deeply – and his mood didn't bear much comforting as it was. He would have to wait for him to cool down.

In the meantime, Ezio would lie still, and contemplate the wonderful kiss, and the disaster it left in its wake.


	6. Chapter 6

Ezio couldn't rest. He hadn't been able to ever since he and Leonardo had…He shook his head. That was not something he wanted to remember right then, and the pain the simple movement caused help to shake his attention from the somber train of thoughts, if only for a moment. Then he was back to sulking.

He hadn't seen Leonardo for days. The painter had refused to come to his room, and he wasn't allowed out of bed. He'd overdone it on his leg, and pulled some stitches. Mario had rebound his wounds after that, so that he either couldn't move, or when he did, it hurt like a thousand individual swords driving into his skin. Reduced once again to bed-ridden weakness, he could only stare at the ceiling and pray Leonardo would walk through those doors instead of Claudia or Mario. Each time the door opened, though, he was met with disappointment.

He was so tired of waiting. He couldn't sleep, and he couldn't stand to lie there any longer, knowing what Leonardo thought of his affections. Tricking him? Using him? How could the man think those things?

…okay, maybe that made more sense than he wanted to admit. But still, he was mistaken, and Ezio needed to so desperately to correct his opinion. To set things right.

Ever the crafty young man, Ezio devised a plan. He couldn't get up, and apparently, Claudia was uninterested in passing along messages. But…if there was one thing he could count on, if not his own body or his own sister, it was Leonardo's compassion. Ezio was sure he could've tried to kill Leonardo's mother, and he still would've saved his life.

Not that he would ever consider such a thing.

Since he couldn't do anything drastic like threaten to kill himself – firstly, that was going _too_ far, and secondly, Claudia would probably just laugh it off and tell him to try. But…that did leave more subtle means. Heartless as she could be, Claudia really did care for him. He hadn't exactly been a bundle of smiles lately, and he could see her start to worry.

While that was usually a problem, this time, it worked to his advantage. She said she wouldn't pass a message from him, but maybe she would pass a message of his own. The girl was intelligent, observant, and had an eye for broken hearts just like their mother. She probably already knew both sides of the story.

So he stopped eating. He stopped talking, he just waited, because she had to see – _he_ had to know. If she saw just what this was doing to him, then she would step in…at least, he hoped.

And if not…well, eventually he would heal, and he could confront the painter himself.

It was late morning, four days after his little fiasco with Leonardo, when his plan finally came together. Claudia came in to get the dishes from his breakfast, and threw a fit when she saw the plates still full and the glasses untouched. This, apparently, was where she put her foot down.

"Ezio Auditore!" she shouted, throwing the still-folded napkin down on the bed beside him. "Stop this madness! You will never get better if you keep this up!"

Ezio just stared at her, watching her with a sort of detached boredom. His mind was elsewhere, honestly, plan or no plan.

"This is about Leonardo?" The way she said it, Ezio knew it was more of a statement than a question. "You think this is helping any?" Still, Ezio said nothing. "You are impossible!"

And with that, she stormed off…bellowing Leonardo's name at the top of her lungs.

Ezio would've patted himself on the back if he didn't hurt to breathe. As it was, he just waited, hoping, _praying_ that Leonardo would walk through the door. He had to make things right. Nothing else mattered. Nothing.

Despite all of his hopes, he was genuinely surprised when Leonardo actually _did_ walk through the door. Ezio quickly tried to read his mood, but found he wasn't getting much. It was all very dull – Leonardo was very dull. His shoulders slumped and his whole demeanor screamed kicked puppy.

"You've not been eating," he said, startling Ezio out of his observations. "You will never recover if you don't eat," he said.

Ezio hesitated. He hadn't thought this far into his plan – some part of him, he supposed, made him doubt that it would actually work. The hurt he'd seen in Leonardo's eyes…

"Ezio, I am only here because Claudia said there was something I could do. If you are not going to speak to me, then I will leave," Leonardo threatened. Ezio immediately sat up, reaching for Leonardo's hand to make him stay.

Of course, it didn't work as smoothly as he would have liked. Sitting up sent a spire of agony through his body, and he all but fell over. Luckily, Leonardo managed to catch him, and set about moving him back onto the bed…

Ezio had other ideas, wrapping his arm around Leonardo and burying his face in the other man's chest. "Please Leonardo, I am sorry," he whispered through the pain. "Do not leave again."

Even as he begged, Ezio half expected Leonardo to push him away. To his surprise though, instead of a harsh push, he felt a gentle embrace. To him, through the burning pain licking through his body, it felt like a breeze of cool air. It was amazing, just how _good_ it felt to be in Leonardo's arms.

"Ezio…" he heard Leonardo sigh, and he tightened his grip as much as possible. He was too close to let Leonardo push him away! He couldn't…couldn't let him walk away again.

"I meant it!" Ezio screamed into the fabric of Leonardo's shirt. "I love you, and I mean it damn it! Please believe me!" His shoulders shook as wetness gathered in his eyes against his will. "Why will you not believe me?"

A soft hand found its way into his hair, stroking through his tangled locks soothingly. "Shh, Ezio, it's alright," Leonardo whispered. "It's alright, I believe you."

And even though Ezio wasn't convinced, there was nothing he could do as his arms were pulled away from Leonardo and he was pushed back to the bed. He would not let this end like that again!

Before Leonardo could straighten, Ezio fisted a hand in the collar of his shirt and pulled so that Leonardo had no choice but to brace himself to keep from falling. "Leonardo," Ezio pleaded, eyes searching Leonardo's for something – anything to tell him how the other man felt. He didn't find anything though, so he took the next best route. He told Leonardo how he felt. "Leonardo, you damn _idiota_, I love you."

And then he showed him, leaning up as much as his straining wounds would allow, he pressed his lips to Leonardo's. The kiss was soft, but carried with it every ounce of desperation, of insecurity, of sheer _need_ Ezio felt for the other man.

This time, it was Ezio that broke the kiss, leaning back to again study Leonardo's features. At first he couldn't tell – he wasn't sure, and it was killing him. But then, before he could think, those same lips were on his again, and this time when they parted, he heard the words he'd been hoping for.

"I love you too, Ezio." Leonardo's lips found his forehead, and then, much too soon for Ezio's opinion, Leonardo leaned back. This time though, it was only long enough to turn so that he was sitting on the side of Ezio's bed that the young assassin wasn't occupying.

Anything dull about Leonardo was gone now, replaced with a warm radiance that confirmed for Ezio that he had done it. Leonardo knew.

And with that realization came the greatest wave of relief Ezio believed he had ever felt. Relief…and utter exhaustion.

He didn't even know his eyes had slipped shut until he had to open to them to see Leonardo's smiling face. "And you, my sleepy _idiota_, have pushed yourself too far," the painter said fondly, brushing some of Ezio's hair back out of his face.

"'t was worth it," Ezio muttered, reaching up to take Leonardo's hand in his own. And no matter how much pain he was in, no matter how tired he was, that was the truth. It was worth all of that and then some, just to have Leonardo smile at him again.

With his free hand, Leonardo pulled Ezio's blankets up to his chest and smoothed them out. "Rest now," he commanded gently, "I will be here when you wake up."

And with the love of his life finally his, finally _there_, Ezio was more than happy to comply.


End file.
